


What You Want To Hear

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finally has to ask him, how can he do it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Want To Hear

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Eating Disorders' at [Hurt/Comfort Bingo](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)

“How long has it been this time?” John said over his shoulder, glancing at Sherlock who was shovelling cold Sheppard’s Pie into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days, which was almost certainly exactly what he had done.

“Wasn’t counting.” Sherlock said between mouthfuls.

“Yes, well, that’s the problem really isn’t it?” John said, glaring defiantly at his newspaper. He learnt a long time ago that pointing out the medical dangers of living like Sherlock did was as pointless as trying to explain the finer points of sports to him.

“Hmm?” Sherlock asked, his mouth full.

“I just meant... who can go for days without eating and _not_ notice? Don’t you get hungry? I missed lunch yesterday and I was _starving_ , could have eaten a horse.”

“That’s because you are powered by your stomach, whereas I, I am powered by my mind.”

“I mean it Sherlock, how long have you been doing this, that it doesn’t even affect you anymore?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Since there were more interesting things to be doing than _this_ ” He waved the spoon dramatically, dotting the wall with mashed potatoes.

“You’re avoiding the question.” John pointed out, putting down the paper.

“Aren’t you the psychiatrist today?”

“You’re still doing it.”

“So I am.”

There was a long pause. John thought Sherlock was working up to some vulnerable confession and he thought he was being considerate by waiting patiently for it. Then he realised Sherlock wasn’t working up to anything, he’d won.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. I’m only a _doctor_.”

“And I solve crimes yet I do not feel the need to tell you that you are robbed blind every time you purchase a lottery ticket.”

“You do actually, every time, without fail and in great detail.”

“What do you _want_ me to say?” Sherlock said, putting the spoon down with a clunk and turning to look at him, for the first time since the conversation had started.

There was a pause where John tried to figure out what it was he wanted Sherlock to say. He’d been so determined to get an answer, any answer, he hadn’t really considered what the answer might be.

“Something honest. Just... anything.” John shrugged, finally aware of the hole he’d dug them both in to.

“Very well. I like it. It helps me think. It helps me ask the right questions and then answer them. It makes me think like them, crippling hungry for something outside of myself and desperately wanting to be in control of something. Don’t look at me like that; I know all the pet theories you have about what a control freak I must be.” He took a breath, looking back down at his food. “And then when I’ve solved it, it’s a reward, I can take it away again and make it all better. And it feels all the more worth it for having worked for it.” There was another awkward pause. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

John got up from his chair and took the bowl of cold Sheppard’s pie from him. “I can microwave this, if you want?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
